Harry Potter and the Mirror, Darkly
by Mr.Anonymous.Man
Summary: Harry Potter hates his arrogant, loathsome twin Robert. He runs away from the Weaslys, his foster parents, with a 6-year-old Luna in tow. Gray!Harry, helpful!TomRiddle
1. Prologue

****I do not own Harry Potter.

**Harry Potter and the Mirror, Darkly**

**Prologue**

Harry James Potter stood next to his twin brother, Robert Vernon Potter, and glared at the birthday cake. It was a wonderfully lavish cake, adorned with rose petals and decorated with flapping snitches. He saw ice-cream piled at it's base, his brother's favorite treat, and a sparking candle rose from the mounds of mouth-watering chocolate cake. The only problem: it was not his cake.

July Thirtieth. His seventh birthday. And yet the only name adorned upon the masterpiece of a cake was his brother's, the Boy-Who-Lived. Everyone was fawning over Robert, leaving Harry to kick at the ground. Harry glared at his brother with hate burning in his emerald eyes.

That was one of the only differences between the two boys, their eyes. Harry's were a vibrant green, like his mother's, while his arrogant brother's were hazel like his father's. Harry thought it fitting as his personality was much closer to that of his mother.

Molly Weasly, who had adopted the brothers at Dumbledore's request, spotted the death glare that Harry was giving Robert, and began lecturing him. "You be grateful to your brother," she said bossily, "You know he saved us all from You-Know-Who."

Harry gazed at her angrily. "Why doesn't he have one of these?" Harry said furiously, lifting his fringe.

Molly clacked her tongue loudly. "Your brother is much more powerful than you. Hagrid found some shrapnel from Robert's crib next to you, and Dumbledore thinks that you were hit when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named attacked Robbie."

Harry shook his head sullenly, seeing no point in arguing with his neglectful adoptive mother. Satisfied, she returned to asking Robbie where he wanted to go for supper.

Robert turned around, a large mocking grin on his face. "Hiya, _Brother._" he sneered, "What's with the long face?"

Harry glared furiously at him. A long silence echoed throughout the Burrow, everyone staring at Harry. Ron, Fred, and George were silently sympathetic to Harry, but mentally pleading for him to stay calm.

Harry's lip curled upwards in disgust, stared angrily at the cake. Slowly he walked forward towards his brother. The Weaslys watched with anticipation as Harry faced his brother, noses inches from touching. Harry turned towards the cake, his brother watching with an evil smirk on his face.

**Thwack**

A wad of spit hit the cake, dripping down the sides messily. With one last, furious glance, Harry walked out the door.

Running through the tall grass outside the Burrow was something Harry had done often, to escape the pain of being ignored by the 'loving' Mrs Weasly. For as long as he could remember, Robert had gotten everything; brand-new toy broomsticks, trainer wands, action figures of him and Voldemort, everything. All Harry had wanted for his birthday was for Mrs Weasly to say 'Happy Birthday Harry'. But no, all he got was the standard 'Your brother is better than you' speech.

For this last Christmas Harry had asked Mr Weasly – who was much less biased than Mrs Weasly – to get him a trainer wand like the four his brother had. Christmas had come around and he was overjoyed at his name finally being on a present. As soon as he picked it up, Mrs Weasly had rushed over, taking the package. "It's obviously mislabeled," she had said, "Probably sent to Robbie."

He watched angrily as Robbie opened the little green package containing his trainer wand.

He wiped away tears, rounding the familiar circle of stones and plopping next to the turbulent waters of the clear blue creek. He angrily chucked rocks into the water, reveling at the massive splashes he created. He imagined pushing his brother into the stream and smiled. He imagined the look on Robert's face, the splash, and the way he would move his arms as he floated away.

His dark musings were interrupted as Luna Lovegood's face reflected in the gradually calming water. Her hair was long and silver, and her big blue eyes shimmered with curiosity.

"Hello, Harry," said his only friend. She tilted her small head to the side, staring into his deep green eyes. "What happened this time?"

Harry laughed bitterly. "Oh, just more of the same. Forgetting it was even my birthday."

Luna smiled serenely. "You can come to my house for your birthday," she said, smiling sunnily.

Harry rose from his perch, dusting his pants off. "Why not."

Luna looked at him seriously. "Because of mummy."

Harry furrowed his brow. "What?"

"Mummy scares people sometimes," she said, "That's why not."

Harry laughed. "Oh Luna... I meant that I wanted to go."

"Why didn't you just say that then?"

Harry shook his head, backing up from the stream. Luna watched with curiosity as Harry began running at the rushing water. He seemed to steel himself, determination shining from his eyes. Mere inches from the water's edge Harry sprung, flinging himself clear over the seven-meter-wide stream.

Luna's eyes were wide. "How'd you do that?"

Harry smiled mysteriously. "Magic, duh." Well, as mysteriously as a seven-year-old can.

* * *

When Harry and Luna arrived at her home, both out of breath for running six-and-a-half kilometers straight, he almost fainted at the sheer amount of oddness contained in one building. There were signs warning to stay away from the beets, and odd feathered contraptions emitting purple smoke. Hundreds of copies of a magazine called the Quibbler were stacked high, almost touching the ceiling.

Shafts of light filtered in through the high windows, illuminating the dusty air. Coughing, Harry backed away from a scuttling creature which had tried to take a chunk out of his arm. "This is your house, Luna?" he asked incredulously.

Luna nodded. "Yep," she said proudly, popping the P. She began searching the crowded house for her mother, occasionally calling out. "Mummy, I brought a friend home!"

She never received a reply.

Curious, and more than a little worried, Harry followed her. They began opening doors, seeing nothing but dust and junk. Now more concerned, they searched faster and faster until-

"Mummy!" Luna screamed. Her mother was lying on the floor of her study, bleeding from her lip. Blood coated her hands, and a silver-covered wand lay beside her blood-soaked blond hair.

"Luna-" she said, wheezing. "I don't have much time left, child."

Luna's eyes were wide, glistening with unshed tears. "Mummy, don't die."

Mrs Lovegood shook her head. "I cannot stop it. Death grows nearer and nearer. You must learn that no sane man would even attempt to halt it's progress, for the price is too terrible to contemplate."

Tears dripped from Luna's oceanic eyes, splashing in the red puddle. Her mother grabbed Luna's hand, forcing the silver wand into her fist. "What do you feel, honey?" she asked, hunger evident in her eyes.

"It feels like you, mummy." she said softly. Her mother smiled.

"Yes, dear. Tell your friend to read my journal." she instructed. Luna nodded, biting her sobs back. "Mummy loves you, Luna."

At that, Luna broke down, clutching her mother's hand tightly and curling up into a ball. "My little moon-child. Go, and brighten the night."

With one last rattling breath, Selene Lovegood, mother of Luna, closed her eyes forever.

Luna broke down in sobs, launching herself at Selene, only to have her mother's body dissolve into nothingness, leaving no trace except the silver wand. Luna curled in a ball, rocking slightly. With a cold sadness in his eyes, Harry walked slowly to the wand. He knelt beside it, turning it over in his hands. He tapped her gently on the shoulder, softly speaking.

"Luna," he said quietly, "Get up Luna."

She stared at him with her sky-blue orbs, blinking her tears away. "Harry?" she whispered softly.

Harry nodded, opening his arms. "I'm here, Luna."

Luna hugged Harry, clutching him like a teddy bear. "What'ch we gonna do?" she asked, frightened.

Harry shook his head. "We're going to get out of here, Luna. It holds too many bad memories."

Luna shook her head, wetting Harry's shirt with her tears. "This is home, Harry."

Harry nodded slightly. "I know, Luna. It'll be an adventure."

Luna looked into his eyes, a wild, exited expression on her face. "Will we fight a dragon?"

Harry smiled widely. "Of course we'll fight a dragon. It's an adventure."

* * *

Harry quietly snuck into his brother's room, careful not to trip any of the multiple alarm charms Robbie had already been taught to place around his door. He did not need to worry about being caught by his family, since they were in Diagon Alley eating ice-cream to celebrate Robert's birthday. Harry's anger returned when he saw the glass cabinet containing everything that Robert had taken from Harry including-

"My practice wand," Harry growled under his breath. He chuckled as he saw the Robert Potter dolls, all in positions of power over Voldemort. Some had wands that blinked green every few seconds, others were perpetually animated to duel to the death. Curiously, Robert was the only one who won any of these duels. Harry saw a Robert Potter doll with eyes painted green that got cursed every few seconds by Robbie's doll.

Harry cackled evilly. He had a plan.

Two hours later, Robert returned home with ice-cream dripping down his chin. He ran up to his room, smiling at the new doll clutched in his fist. The sight that greeted him at his door made him drop his ridiculous toy in shock.

Every single doll in his room had vanished. His shelf where he kept trophies won from his brother was empty. Bits of clay lay scattered on his bedsheets, smoking slightly. There, in the midst of the pile of ash stood his altered Harry Potter doll(which he had made himself,) waving at him cheerfully, wand in hand.

With an inhuman scream, Robert Vernon Potter began to burn his wallpaper in fury.


	2. Chapter One: Diagon Alley

I don't own Harry Potter.

**Harry Potter and the Mirror, Darkly**

**Chapter One: Diagon Alley**

Four years later...

Beads of sweat dripped down Harry's tired face. His hand clenched the hot wood of his training wand, pushing his magic with all his might. Hot fire erupted from the tip, shooting fifty meters into the air. White flames ballooned out from the green wood, heating the air to nearly unbearable temperatures.

For ages Harry pushed more and more of his power into the wand, stretching his core to its limits. He blinked madly, his eyes drying faster than he could replace the tears. He felt as if he was holding a hot poker, from the wrong end, and tried to keep his grip. He felt his hand sizzling under the intense heat, but still he pressed on.

Harry felt his magic give out. He forced the last inch of his power through his wand, barely sustaining fire the size of a candle. He dropped painfully to his knees, falling face-first into a puddle of baked mud.

"One hour, seven minutes." Luna, who had been watching him, proudly announced.

Harry panted. "I was down to seven percent."

Luna whistled. "Wow. You're crazier than me."

Training wands, generally, were designed specifically to filter magic by a certain percentage. A simple command would change the magical focus, with one-hundred being just like any other piece of wood and zero being a powerful inhibitor. The average adult wizard could cast spells at seventy percent. More powerful wizards, such as Dumbledore and Voldemort, could go down to fifty.

Training wands could also go in reverse, if they were charged enough. Lending power to the spell from it's own reserves. Pure-blood parents often bought their children such wands, regularly charging them with their own magic so the child could cast spells easily. Sometimes, if they were rich enough, the wand came with a self-charging runic stand (Robert had 3 the last time Harry had seen him, four years ago).

Harry was currently stockpiling massive amounts of magical energy in his wand. He had been since him and Luna left their homes four years ago, which meant that the wand's reserves were massive. He doubted any other training wand in the country had more power than his.

"Which spell was that, Harry?" Tom asked. Tom was a specter which had mysteriously appeared once he left the vicinity of the Burrow's overbearing wards. He had soon found out that only he and Luna could see Tom after several comments by well-meaning muggles on their 'invisible friends'.

"A simple Incindio, Tom." Harry said, face streaked with mud.

Tom nodded. "That looked like a very overpowered Incindio."

Luna chimed in. "He was at seven percent this time."

Tom's eyes widened. "What? Are you bloody insane?"

"That's what I said." Luna smirked.

Harry gritted his teeth and rose to his feet. "I'm perfectly sane, thanks. I just prefer being more powerful than you seem to want me to be."

Tom glared at Harry. "That's because you'll probably blow out a magical conduit."

Harry snorted. "Stop being so bloody hypocritical. I know for a fact you did the same thing."

Tom stared at him. "Not at seven percent!"

"Meh. Potato, Potahto."

Tom shook his head sadly. "Idiot."

Harry glared, then turned around and fired another jet of fire into the blue sky. "See, it's working. Last week it would have taken me at least a day to fully recuperate."

Tom hung his head. "If you die, I'll have to say I told you so."

* * *

Along the treeline where Harry was firing the beams of fire sat an owl. This was no ordinary owl, but an official Post Owl carrying a letter from the ancient magical institution of Hogwarts. Normally, an ordinary owl would suffice to send these important letters. However, the recipient of said letter was very good at Anti-Tracking charms, being taught by Tom Riddle himself.

Six other letters had been sent by the desperate school, and each was returned unopened with the owls unable to locate Harry Potter. So finally, Albus Dumbledore had managed to convince the Hogwarts Board of Governors that a Special Delivery Owl was needed. So the owl (Saltor was it's name) sat patiently, waiting for Harry to stop firing lethal bursts of magic into his flight path.

Harry once again sunk to his knees, this time after only fifteen minutes.

"Harry, it's your birthday," Luna pleaded, "We should celebrate-"

Harry shot bolt upright. "Dammit, my Hogwarts letter is supposed to come today!" he quickly began dropping the anti-tracking charms, looking slightly rejuvenated each time.

With a squawk, the white bird swooped down and dropped Harry's letter in his hand before flying to perch in a tree. Harry stared at the green wax seal with reverence. The loopy writing spelled out only his name, then a question mark. With shaking hands (although that was partially his exhaustion at fault) he tore the seal off and slid the parchment out of it's envelope.

**HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY**

_Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr Potter, _

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. _

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31. _

_Yours sincerely, _

_Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress_

Harry flipped the page over in excitement.

_**HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY**_

_**UNIFORM **_

_First-year students will require: _

_1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)_

_2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear_

_3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)_

_4. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings) _

_Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags._

_**COURSE BOOKS **_

_All students should have a copy of each of the following: _

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk_

_A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot_

_Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling_

_A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch_

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore_

_Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger_

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander _

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble _

_**OTHER EQUIPMENT **_

_1 wand_

_1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)_

_1 set glass or crystal phials_

_1 telescope_

_1 set brass scales_

_Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad. _

_**PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK**_

_Yours sincerely, _

_Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus,_

_Chief Attendant of Witchcraft Provisions_

Harry's eyes shone with happiness. "Hogwarts, at last."

Immediately sitting to write an acceptance on the conveniently included blank parchment, he started scribbling madly. As he was writing, his tongue poked out between his lips, making Luna giggle.

_Dear Headmaster Dumbledore,_

_I am quite pleased that you have sent me this-_

Harry paused for a second while Tom helpfully chimed in. "Try correspondence," he suggested.

_-this correspondence and would be delighted to accept your invitation to attend your prestigious school. I do, however, have one stipulation. I wish to bring my friend, whom I consider a close sibling, as otherwise she will be forced to deal with the world alone. I do hope this is not a problem in any way. I am willing to pay extra for her room and board if necessary._

_Seeing you on the 1st of September,_

_Sincerely,_

_Harry James Potter_

Finishing with an exaggerated stroke of his pen, Harry whistled at the owl who flew down to perch on his arm. Tying the letter with care, he sent the bird back to it's mailer, Dumbledore.

* * *

Diagon Alley was once again packed with students. Harry was having a hard time not getting separated from Luna, so he decided to pick her up and piggy-back her through the crowd. Within minutes (with Luna as navigator) Harry had fought his way through the smelly, ugly crowd of snotty brats and nosy parents to arrive at Ollivander's shop.

He opened the door gently, the door chimes tinkling softly. The interior of the store was dusty, filled with rows and rows of boxes. Twisted, spindly chairs sat in a row, looking more like medieval torture devices than customer's seats. Small, grimy oil lamps grew from the walls, giving the impression that the owner did not care about shop cleanliness.

"Mister Potter," said a voice, startling Harry and Luna. "What an unexpected pleasure."

An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop. Harry stared, for his eyes greatly resembled Luna's. His hair, silver from age, wisped around his wrinkled face in tufts. He hunched slightly, hobbling over to the group slowly.

"Ollivander, I assume." Harry said, staring at the boxes of wands.

Ollivander nodded, smiling widely. "What brings you to my shop today?"

Harry returned his gaze to the man. "I wish to buy a wand."

Ollivander clacked his tongue. "Well that's obvious, Mr Potter."

Harry looked bewildered. "But-"

"Never mind, boy, never mind." Ollivander raised his hand, levitating a tape measure which began to measure Harry. Ollivander hobbled over to the wand wall, pulling out several boxes. "Cherry, emerald core. Give it a wave."

Harry took the offered wand, and the instant he waved down the wand cracked in two, steaming. "I'm so sorry, sir-" Harry began.

"It's not a problem. That was one of the cheapest wands in the store. I usually use it to test how many cores someone's wand is going to need." he said, frowning. "Obviously more than one."

Handing Harry another wand, he again listed the specifications. "Cherry, emerald and ruby cores."

Reluctantly, Harry waved the new wand, apprehensive. As soon as the tip began to move, shockwaves ran across the wood.

"Not that one. Here, try this. Maple with sapphire, ruby, and emerald cores." Ollivander crowed with triumph as the wand did not self destruct, instead cracking his wall. "That should do it, three cores! Last time I sold a three-core wand was four years ago, to an unspeakable."

Harry coughed nervously. "Um, Mister Ollivander, I was wondering if there was any way to make it so my wand can store energy like a training wand."

Ollivander peered at him, curious. "I assume you would want the wand to be able to transfer energy from that rather impressive training wand in your pocket."

Harry shifted his weight, uncomfortable. "Yes."

"I see." Ollivander broke into a wide smile. "Yes, it is rather simple to do."

Harry grinned. "Awesome!"

"However, it shall not work as you are accustomed." Ollivander warned. "One hundred percent will be at full power, with no interference from the training runes. Zero will be the same as your training wand on zero." He pondered, eyes staring vacantly at the ceiling. "I believe another student, one Draco Malfoy has asked for identical charms on his wand. No doubt he will have his father charge it for him." Ollivander said, disgusted.

Harry smiled, and with that they returned to selecting wands.

"Maple with unicorn hair, Swedish Short-Snout heartstring, and powdered Venomous Tentacula. Nope, try this.

"Red Cedar with Thestral hair, Unicorn tail, and powdered Dragon Scale... Definitely not.

"Green Ash with Anaconda venom, Diamond shards, and Basilisk venom... Close, but no cigar.

"European Beech with Basilisk venom, Unicorn hair braid, and Dragon heartstring... Surprisingly no."

Every wand they tried, for minutes that blended into hours, failed just as spectacularly as the first. The pile of discarded wands grew, until Harry's arm got sore. Still they pressed on, until-

"Try this. Bloodwood, from Central America, with Basilisk venom, Dragon heartstring (from a particularly nasty Arctic breed), and Diamond shards. Has an Emerald focus."

The wand was beautiful, the polished dark red wood gleaming in the dim lamp-light. The shape was streamline, gradually tapering off to the tip where a tiny emerald stone winked from it's groove. He stared at it reverently, already knowing this was the one.

Harry's fingers curled around the polished wood, sending jolts of power along his spine. Warmth spread across his hand like a blazing fire, consuming him. He heard a faint tinkling sound, like a flute being played on the high winds.

With a determined gleam in his eye, he brought the wand down sharply. Harry felt his magic fuse to the wand, sending sparks up his arm. The wand was no longer separate, now merely an extension of his hand.

Emerald faintly glowing, the shop immediately brightened. Beams of light shone from the wand tip, burning away the dust and repairing the damaged walls. The oil lamps grew brighter, and burned away the grease stains on their glass. Harry's hair whipped around, as if in a powerful storm.

Outside, a crowd had gathered. The inhumanly powerful light shone through even the magically enhanced curtains, blinding some temporarily while others shielded their eyes.

As soon as it came, it was gone. The population of the alley waited with bated breath as the door opened with a soft tinkle. Their eyes widened in shock as they saw Harry Potter, brother to the Boy-Who-Lived.

Harry smirked, holding onto Luna's hand tightly. "Come now, Luna. We must be off." And with that, they disappeared into thin air.


	3. Chapter Two: Home

I don't own Harry Potter.

**AN: I am so sorry about the massive lateness of this chapter. I had about five more written, but my OS died. I lost my motivation because of that, but it's back!**

**Harry Potter and the Mirror, Darkly**

**Chapter Two: Home**

Harry, Luna, and Tom sat in the train compartment in silence, each contemplating their arrival at Hogwarts. Scenes flashed by the window, every once and a while catching the eyes of the group.

Suddenly they heard a knock at the door. Startled, Harry whipped his head around and stared into a pair of chocolate brown eyes. The girl moved her lips, and Harry unknowingly nodded. The door slid open.

Tom immediately began snickering at Harry's glassy look. Harry glared at him before returning his attention to the girl.

"Hi I'm Hermione and I was wondering if I could sit with you please because I got kicked out of my compartment so they could snog and I'm sorry if I'm talking too fast I do that when I get nervous." She said this all very fast and without a single breath.

"Usually breathing is necessary for life." Luna commented dreamily. Hermione looked taken aback.

"Sorry," Harry grimaced, "What Luna meant is that you should take a deep breath and sit down."

Hermione smiled timidly and moved to sit next to Luna, directly where the invisible (to her) Tom was sitting. In a panic, Harry ushered her next to him, across from Luna. Luna was nearly in hysterics, and Hermione was getting rather confused.

"I'm Harry, that lunatic over there is Luna, and the guy you just almost sat on is Tom." Harry introduced.

"What do you mean," she asked, a look of confusion etched on her face. "There's nobody there!"

"Tom," Harry signaled. Before Hermione's startled eyes Tom materialized.

"Enchantee, madame." Tom smirked, his dark eyes twinkling merrily.

* * *

"Potter, Harry." McGonagall spoke clearly, shock barely entering her voice.

Harry strode up to the Sorting Hat and confidently placed it on his head. "Well, well, well," a disembodied voice spoke into his ear, "Harry Potter. The true Boy-Who-Lived. Let's see... lots of ambition, bravery, intelligence. All qualities that would get you into Slytherin, Gryffindor, and Ravenclaw. But I'm afraid that your most dominant trait is loyalty."

Harry was shocked. He was sure he was going to be put into Gryffindor like his parents.

"**HUFFLEPUFF!**"

At that, Robert began laughing maniacally. His laughter dragged on, not realizing that with each passing second the fury in the eyes of the Hufflepuffs grew. "Hufflepuff!" Robert exclaimed, wheezing. "I always knew you were a pansy!"

Pansy Parkinson quietly muttered, "I resent that."

"That's quite enough." Dumbledore rumbled, disappointment rumbling through his voice. "I expect better of you, Mister Potter."

Robert kept laughing. "Yeah, Harry! Even Dumbles expected more from you."

Dumbledore's eyes flashed angrily. "I was speaking to you, Robert Potter."

"Oh." Robert calmed down instantly, and made his way to the stool with his tail tucked between his legs.

Robert slipped the hat over his head, and the Hat frowned. "Hmmm. It seems you have hardly any redeeming qualities at all." The Hat paused, then continued. "It did take a great deal of bravery to make a fool out of yourself on the first day. Also stupidity. So I guess there's no other place for you but **GRYFFINDOR!**"

No applause greeted Robert. He walked to the Gryffindor table with his head down, anger stewing in his eyes.

"Granger, Hermione."

"**RAVENCLAW!**"

"Weasley, Ronald."

"**GRYFFINDOR!**"

At last the sorting was over, and Dumbledore stood to make a speech. "There is a time for long and powerful speeches. This is not it. Dig in."

Dumbledore clapped and a magnificent feast bloomed from the tables. Harry helped himself to mashed potatoes, smiling at the fact that he was finally where the lost boys go. He was home.


	4. Chapter Three: Fury

I don't own Harry Potter.

**AN: Reader AZ, I chose the name Vernon because I thought maybe Lily would want to reconcile with her sister+family, and named her kid after him. In retrospect it seems like a shoddy excuse though.**

**Harry Potter and the Mirror Darkly**

**Chapter Three: Fury**

Time passed quickly for Harry and his friends. In no time at all it was the weekend. Since classes only started on Wednesday, the Hufflepuffs hadn't had Herbology with the Gryffindors yet. That was one class Harry was dreading, because his brother was bound to be insufferable.

At the moment Harry, Luna, Tom, and Hermione were walking by the lake shore. Luna was balancing precariously on her tip-toes, arms extended like an airplane. Her face shone with glee, and the light reflected from the lake's surface made it appear as if she was flying.

"I want a new duck. One that won't try to bite," Luna sang prettily, her dreamy voice echoing over the calm water. "Dum dee daaa... Duck pate!"

Harry smiled slightly, listening to Luna's voice mix in with Hermione and Tom's conversation about quantum physics(or something). This is what friends are, he thought happily.

"Quack quack, quack quack quack quack!" Luna quacked.

Harry started quacking, trying to play along, but Luna stopped and glared at him. "You aren't singing it right." she said snootily.

Harry held his hands up in surrender, and she resumed quacking.

Suddenly a rock under her slipped. Her arms flailed around like windmills, and she held her note in shock. "QUAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

With one last flap, Luna Lovegood fell into the lake.

Her head emerged from the shallow depths, sputtering and flailing around. "Quack." she said, her face glowing with happiness.

Harry laughed along with the others, before abruptly stopping at a most unwelcome sight.

Robert had taken to sulking around, lashing out at anyone in sight. He reduced one girl, Hannah Abbot, to tears when he commented on her weight. The next day he got caught dueling Draco Malfoy in the corridors. Every time he did something he seemed to escape punishment somehow, and it was starting to really piss off the student population.

On this wonderful, sunny day Robert stormed up to the four (from his point of view, there were only three) with his two cronies in tow. Seamus Finnigan was a complete moron, following Robert mindlessly, and Zacharias Smith who was only there because Robert paid him.

"So, Potter," Robert sneered, "you thought you could get away with humiliating me?"

Harry looked around incredulously. "You did a pretty good job of that on your own."

"Shut up, Harry. It was your fault." Robert turned away and faced Luna. "By the way, you looked like a drowned rat."

Luna's expression went from one of blissful happiness to that of a kicked puppy. "That's not very nice." she said reproachfully.

Robert sneered. "No, it wasn't. I suppose you're going to go cry to mommy now." He paused, a slow, evil smile creeping onto his face. "Oh, that's right. She's gone and blown herself up, the stupid bitch!"

Harry barely had time to register the hurt expression on Luna's face before Robert spun on his heel, and began a proud walk back to the safety of the castle. Harry's chest filled with bubbling hate, and he drew his wand. "HEY!" he screamed, his voice furiously commanding. "TAKE THAT BACK!"

Robert laughed and kept walking.

"STAND AND FIGHT YOU COWARD!" Harry's voice sent shivers down Robert's back, and he turned.

"No, Harry!" Hermione pleaded with him. "He isn't worth it."

"Stupefy!" Robert said lazily, and to Harry's surprise the curse actually fired. He narrowly dodged it, and it gouged out a chunk of a nearby tree. "Are you surprised?" he asked Harry mockingly. "I went to Burton's Preparatory Battle school."

Harry said nothing, only raised his wand in a defensive posture.

"How does it feel, to be the inferior brother?" Robert said slowly, his smirk widening. "To know that no matter what you did, Molly just liked me better." Robert paused dramatically. "To know that she wouldn't, no, couldn't love you. I bet even _our_ mother didn't love-"

At that Harry snapped. Raising his wand, he screamed the only thing he could think. "_INCINDIO!_"

Jets of black flames erupted from Harry's wand tip, flying towards Robert at breakneck speeds. He barely had time to raise a shield before the flames were upon him. Harry could see his face through the rapidly warping shield. Robert's shield lasted barely four seconds before collapsing.

Harry's eyes burned with hatred, watching his brother slowly burn. He pushed more energy into the flames and they grew hotter still. Suddenly he was bowled over by a panicked Tom, who quickly grabbed his wand and begun casting healing charms on Robert.

As soon as Robert was stable, Tom's head whipped around to glare at Harry. "What the hell were you thinking? You can't kill him, you moron."

Harry spat on the ground and turned away. He was about to snap a response back to Tom when he saw the look on Hermione's face; pure terror. He took a step towards her, changing his expression to one of less hostility. She whimpered and backed away.

"Hermione-" he began.

"No, no, stay away from me!" she shrieked, before turning and running to the castle. Harry dropped his head in defeat.

* * *

"So what you're saying to me is that Robert and you were arguing down by the lake when he suddenly burst into flames?" Dumbledore asked incredulously. Harry nodded. "I find that very hard to believe."

"Tell him you'll take a truth potion," said Tom, who was again invisible (and not heard by Dumbledore).

"I'll take a truth potion to prove it," Harry declared, slightly apprehensive. Dumbledore nodded to Snape, who silently swept out of the Hospital Wing. "How is he?" Harry asked timidly.

Dumbledore frowned. "He's in a coma, but he'll be fine in a week or so."

Harry smiled. "Good."

Snape returned, carrying a small vial of clear liquid. Wordlessly, Dumbledore took the potion and turned away, inspecting it with the light.

"Quick, give me your wand." Tom said. Harry slid his wand into his hand sneakily, making sure Dumbledore did not see. Moments later he felt the wand leave his hand.

Dumbledore turned around, frowning. "Open your mouth please, Mister Potter." Harry complied soundlessly. Dumbledore uncorked the bottle and gently tipped the bottle.

As soon as the drop left the bottle, Harry heard Tom's voice urgently echo through the hospital wing. "_Evanesco._" Two more times this happened, and then it was over. Harry felt the wand slip back into his hand.

"What is your full name?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry played along. "Harry James Potter."

"What happened down by the lake, Mister Potter?"

"Well... Robert came down and started insulting me and my friends. I defended them, he insulted my mother, then he burst into flames." Harry lied.

Dumbledore frowned. "Are you sure you did nothing to conjure the flames?"

Harry fought to keep his expression blank. "Absolutely. I was not responsible for his spontaneous combustion."

"Hmm," It was clear Dumbledore did not believe him, but he nodded to Snape anyway, who administered the antidote. "Severus, please go check that this is indeed Veritaserum." At Snape's indignant look, he explained. "I have full confidence in your abilities, but Harry here could have used a Switching spell." Snape nodded and swept away to the dungeons.

"Your mistrust is hurtful professor," Harry said with an air of someone who got kicked in the shin.

"Harry, it's just that I find your story so unlikely." Dumbledore spoke sadly. Harry did not respond. "Harry, I know you did this."

"You have no proof. I testified under Veritaserum."

Dumbledore's eyes flashed angrily. "I can expel you."

Harry smirked. "No, you can't. If you did, I could go to the Board of Governors and they would reverse the decision."

"Why did you do this, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, frustrated.

"I didn't."

"Fine, Harry. Whatever you say." Dumbledore took a deep breath. "You are extremely powerful for your age, Harry."

"Yes?" Harry dragged out the word, wondering what the point was.

"Just because you _have_ power," Dumbledore said softly, "doesn't mean you should _use_ it."

"I bet you're going to tell me the old adage, '_Power Corrupts, and Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely_'," Harry said, a trace of annoyance entering his voice. "I can promise you that I know when to use my power and when not to."

Dumbledore sighed. "I hope so, Harry. I hope so."


	5. Chapter Four: Loose Ends

I don't own Harry Potter.

**AN: Reader AZ: He is still in Hufflepuff. If you check on the Harry Potter wiki, it says that Smith is probably in Harry's year, but it's possible that he's a year younger. So, since it's up in the air, for the purposes of this story Smith is in Harry's year.**

**Harry Potter and the Mirror, Darkly**

**Chapter Four: Loose Ends**

Over the weekend Hermione tried to tell Professor Dumbledore what transpired down at the lake forty-eight times. Every single time, she forgot what she was trying to tell him and left without saying a single word. She was getting desperate. She tried writing on her hand to remind herself, but when she got near Dumbledore the writing vanished. She tried having Terry Boot go with her and remind her, but he forgot too. She even tried wearing a ridiculous magic-repelling jumper, but that didn't work either.

This was her latest attempt. She had found a spell in the library, a spell designed to compel someone to do whatever the caster intended. In this case, compel her to tell Dumbledore what she saw. She had pre-planned what she was going to say, and told Terry to perform the spell on her (he required significant instruction in it's execution).

She strode through the halls confidently, sure that she was finally going to be able to bring justice on Harry. She smiled at passer-byes, and some even smiled back. She was grinning with glee at some poor confused Hufflepuff when she collided with someone. She fell over and dropped her book-bag, spilling it's contents everywhere. When she looked up, she gasped in horror.

Standing above her, silver and green tie glinting in the torchlight, was Tom Riddle.

She sprang up immediately, her wand flying into her hand. "What do you want, Riddle?"

Tom held his hands up in surrender. "I can't let you tell the Headmaster."

Hermione's lip quivered in fear. "What are you going to do?"

"Hermione," he said silkily, slowly moving towards her. "What makes you think I would do anything to you?" He paused, seeing her hand shaking. "I'm your friend, Hermione. I would never," he brushed his hand across her cheek, "ever," he slid his hand behind her neck, "hurt you," he finished, leaning in. His dark eyes hardened, and Hermione felt the cool tip of a wand on her stomach. She looked into Tom's eyes with confusion. "_Obliviate._"

"Tom?" Hermione asked confusedly.

He smiled warmly. "You were just telling me about how Terry Boot was going crazy. He put some sort of compulsion spell on you that made your imagination extremely vivid."

Hermione gasped. "That's horrible! I do remember..." she trailed off. "It's nothing," she reassured him.

"What is it?" he asked, faux concern layered in his voice.

"It's just," she said, smiling embarrasedly, "I remember Harry attacking his brother."

"It must have been the spell," Tom lied smoothly, "Think nothing of it."

They walked side by side to the Great Hall before-

"HARRY!" Hermione yelled excitedly. She ran to hug him, ignoring his confused look. "Oh, Harry! I'm so sorry!"

Harry stared, shocked. "But Hermione, what about-"

She interrupted him. "It's alright, Tom explained everything!"

"Well, umm, what?"

"Harry Potter!" Hermione said, her voice mock-angry, "If you do not come over here right now and give me a hug I will cast a permanent sticking charm and glue you to the floor of the Potions classroom."

Harry smiled, and decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. He held out his arms, and Hermione jumped into them. "Welcome back, Hermione."

At that moment, Luna jumped up from the Hufflepuff bench and joined them. "Group hug!" she said giddily. Tom smiled and did the same.

They stood there for what seemed like hours, hugging Hermione. Nobody noticed the small frown on Albus Dumbledore's aged face.

* * *

Midnight in the Hospital Wing was very quiet. Madam Pomfrey was sleeping in her quarters next to the Wing, ready to leap into action if required. The patient was asleep, and wouldn't wake until a few days from now. Robert Potter's vital signs were being displayed on a small stone tablet mounted on his headboard.

The wind blew through the trees, whistling like the sound of Muggle ghosts. Light flickered from the small candle left illuminated on the table, casting tall moving shadows on the wall. The air was cool and fresh, drifting in from the open window.

Slowly, the door creaked open. Soft footsteps sounded throughout the room, but they were not heard. A shadowy figure crept to the bed, but was not seen. His breath crystallized in the air, but none saw the vapor.

Tom slowly raised his wand, pointing it at the prone figure. "_Obliviate_," he intoned gravely. A jet of gray light floated gently from his wand and into the body. Tom patted Robert on the head, mocking him slightly. "Good night, Robbie. Sweet dreams."

Tom slipped back into the Hufflepuff common room, and smiled nervously at Harry's expression. "What were you doing out at this time of night?" Harry asked accusingly.

"Just tying up some loose ends," Tom said with a sly smile. In the darkness, Harry did not see.

* * *

_The History of the Terran Empire_

_by Kelly Cesario_

_World War II began with Hitler aspiring to take over the world. He, along with the Nazis, conquered most of Europe before the Allies checkmated them with the Atom Bomb. Not content with peace, the United States of America placed their own government in the countries conquered by Germany. Together they became the Coalition of Terra Prime. Throughout the next few years the Coalition expanded its borders by conquering nearby countries. By 1964 the Coalition encompassed most of the world. Select few countries signed non-aggression pacts with the Coalition such as Britain and it's colonies (Canada, Australia, ect). By 1969 Russia was the last country free of the influence of the Coalition._

_For twenty-five years war reigned between the Coalition and Russia. The war lasted this long because of the secret weapon Russia had developed; Antimatter. Russia was, at the time, the only country capable of mass-producing Antimatter. Within months of it's development new weapons were being created. Antimatter-powered laser pistols, antimatter warheads, antimatter energy shielding. For years it looked like the Coalition was going to lose the war. Then one miracle occurred._

_A spy by the name of Earnestine Rocchio (an Italian living within Russian borders) discovered the secret. He smuggled the plans for the device back to what had been the United States and was given a medal of valor and four million dollars. Now the Coalition had the weapons that had been holding them from victory. Within days of discovering this, the Russians surrendered unconditionally._

_The Coalition was now in full command of the entire planet. In 1975, the Coalition's President declared that the title of Coalition no longer described the alliance. Therefore, the Coalition of Terra Prime was renamed to the Terran Empire._

_All political power was passed to the Emperor. For the past sixteen years the Empire has been constructing a vast army, erecting orbital weapons platforms, and preparing for war._

_Britain and it's colonies have also been preparing, for we fear that the Emperor will not be satisfied with the majority of the world. Britain will not be taken over. We will prevail._

_May God be with us all!_


	6. Chapter Five: Fate Rising

I do not own Harry Potter.

AN: Alright, so I had an anonymous reviewer a while ago say that I had butchered all the canon characters... I know Molly really isn't that evil in canon, but this isn't canon, is it. (Also, Robbie isn't supposed to be anything like James.)

This chapter is a bit short, but I needed to split this from the next.

**Harry Potter and the Mirror, Darkly**

**Chapter Five: Fate Rising**

_"I start training next week,"_

_"What did you expect, turnips?"_

_"You sound like Hermione."_

_"Just as long as we're not wiping you off the field,"_

_"A werewolf?"_

_"SIEZE HIM, SIEZE HIM!"_

_"They don't know I'm not allowed to use magic at home."  
_Sounds whirled around Harry as he flew through the twister. He didn't believe his eyes anymore. Spinning heads flew around him, speaking to him. He only caught snippets of what they were saying.

_"I know what day it is,"_

_"Percy's been acting very oddly this summer,"_

_"You might fall out of the wrong fireplace,"_

_"I'll take Ginny and you two come right after us,"_

_"Everyone take a pair of earmuffs,"_

_"It was definitely a curse that killed her,"_

_"Anyone can make a mistake,"_

_"You don't think someone else's been attacked?"  
"Are you going somewhere?"_

_"Voldemort, is my past, present, and future, Harry Potter,"_

_"Are you crazy? All those times I could have died and didn't manage it? They'll be furious..."_

_"Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived,"_

* * *

The wind blew through the tall grass on the lush hill, echoing the waves' flowing movements. The early morning sun shone down on the dark green grass, reflecting off the dew glistening on their blades. Harry felt his pants dampen from the dew as he walked through the jungle of life. Far off, a bird's trilling note rang high and clear, lifting Harry's spirits and filling him with peace. He smiled as he felt the grass tips tickle his hand.

Harry reached the edge of the hill, and looked out at the ocean. He felt his spine tingle with awe, and he shivered. Staring so intently out at the beautiful sights before him, he almost didn't hear the rustle of the grass behind him. Almost.

Harry whirled around and there, in crystal clarity, was himself. The other him seemed oblivious to Harry, and was casually setting up a picnic blanket in a clearing overlooking the water. Harry watched in shock and amazement as his facsimile whistled a happy tune, setting up wine and a candle. To his eternal surprise, little Ginny Weasley entered the scene, giving Harry's facsimile a quick kiss. He suddenly felt like an intruder in his own dream.

Both Harry's facsimile and Ginny turned in tandem and stared into Harry's frightened eyes. They spoke in unison, their voices harmonic and yet dissident. "Beware Harry Potter, son of James. This life is not for you. Should you seek it, you will perish."

The scene melted away, and Harry found himself in the middle of a swinging party. There were sixth-and-seventh-years everywhere, but Harry didn't recognize a single one of them. Then he saw them.

His facsimile, a comparatively aged sixteen-year-old, stood in robes of dark emerald. His figure was trim, but powerful and imposing. He looked rather nervous, and Harry wondered why for half a second before seeing why. Luna Lovegood emerged from behind his facsimile's back, and wound her arm into his. For some reason, it seemed like Harry's older self was deliberately avoiding the others at the party.

The older couple wandered closer to the back, where the true Harry was watching with avid interest. Suddenly, the scene froze. No one moved, not a breath was drawn, not a blink. The older Harry turned to face his counterpart. In an ethereal, disembodied voice which rang like an inharmonious choir he spoke. "Nor is this your destiny. In another timeline, perhaps. You are destined for tradgedy."

The older Harry paused, sighing. "Do not follow my path, for it too leads to sorrow."

Young Harry looked up at himself, and saw the anguish in his eyes. "What must I avoid?" he asked desperately. "What could be so terrible about what you have shown me?"

The older Harry hung his head in disappointment. "You do not understand."

"Explain it to me then!"

Suddenly, older Harry's eyes snapped up, blazing with anger. "I will _show_ you!"

Scenes flashed before Harry's eyes, each lingering so he could appreciate the full horror of the imagery.

_Tom raising his wand to an older Hermione. The look of betrayal on her face. The yellow flash of the wand-tip. The bolt, flying in slow motion to impact on her chest. The blood droplets, suspended in mid-air, hanging behind her lifeless eyes._

Harry crashed to his knees in shock. "HE WOULDN'T!" Harry cried, tears streaming down his twisted face. "HE'S MY FRIEND!"

"He will!" cried his older self, "and he has!"

_Silver locks, floating behind a small, child-like head. Her eyes were closed in peace, a small smile gracing her lips. Luna floated slowly underwater, farther and farther down. He saw her falling, falling, falling._

"NO!" Harry screamed, his voice cracking under the weight of the horror he was seeing.

_Him and Tom, locked in combat. His face was twisted in fury, deflecting the green barrage of spells from Tom. Firing lethal green beams back towards the face of his once-friend. The look of shock on Tom's face as one final beam struck true. The dust cloud from his fallen body. Harry's wand slowly raising to his head. A flash of green._

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Harry screamed, bolting upright and throwing off the covers in a panicked fit.

* * *

Candles burned dimly in the dark library, casting flickering shadows on the walls. Light barely shone from Tom's dark eyes as he read furiously from the ancient leather book. His eyes flew at a maniac pace, flipping pages at record speed.

Suddenly, all movement ceaced.

A slow smile crept onto the twisted face of Tom Riddle. "I've found it," he whispered gleefully. He closed his eyes and leaned back onto a bookshelf. Paying no mind to the dust motes disturbed by his movements, he breathed in deeply. His eyes opened, glinting red. "Long live the empire."


	7. Chaper Six: The Descent

I don't own Harry Potter.

AN: For the person who put their review name as '2 sisters readin', you can tell your sister that her impassioned arguments eventually convinced me that Tom should be a good guy. There's no need for threats...

Review. Do it now.

**Harry Potter and the Mirror, Darkly**

**Chapter Six: The Descent  
**

Candles burned dimly in the dark library, casting flickering shadows on the walls. Light barely shone from Tom's dark eyes as he read furiously from the ancient leather book. His eyes flew at a maniac pace, flipping pages at record speed.

Suddenly, all movement ceased.

A slow smile crept onto the twisted face of Tom Riddle. "I've found it," he whispered gleefully. He closed his eyes and leaned back onto a bookshelf. Paying no mind to the dust motes disturbed by his movements, he breathed in deeply. His eyes opened, glinting red. "Long live the empire."

**One Day Earlier**

Lord Voldemort was not enjoying his classes at all. He was forced to endure the idiotic stuttering of his host, Professor Quirrell, all day long while standing mere meters away from the one responsible for his current condition. He was even considering exposing himself and destroying the little brat right then. But that was before... _The Incident_.

Voldemort felt his eyes widen in shock when he saw... _himself_... walk into the room. His doppelganger was younger, about how he looked as a fifth-year, but there was no question about it. It was him.

_How? _It was the only thought that ran through his head. Faintly, he felt Quirrell continue with his lesson, as if he hadn't just been interrupted by a fifth-year walking into a first-year class. Finally, inspiration struck him.

"_Horcrux_," Voldemort whispered. Luckily, Quirrell had (completely by fluke) sneezed at that exact moment, so nobody noticed. Well, almost nobody. Tom's head whipped towards Quirrell's, staring with a curious intensity.

_Something was different about my younger self_, Voldemort thought. _What could it be? _Voldemort looked (through Quirrell's eyes) intently, studying him.

His eyes. His eyes weren't the same. Voldemort wondered what had caused the change. So engrossed in his theories he was that he didn't even notice that Tom was standing right next to Quirrell.

"We need to talk, Voldemort," Tom said authoritatively. Voldemort felt shocked that anyone would dare address him so brazenly, but then he remembered what an impudent, egotistical brat he was in his fifth year.

He separated from Quirrell carefully, taking extra care to not damage any of his admittedly dark soul. "Very well, Tom," Voldemort said, trying to antagonize his Horcrux. The apparition was surprised to see that Tom did not react with disgust.

The apparition and his (semi-)solid companion moved to a silent section of the corridor.

"Which Horcrux are you?" Voldemort asked.

"Not one you knew you made," Tom said smugly.

"What do you- Potter," Voldemort broke off with a snarl. "I had already performed the spell before I went into the house, and..."

"And Harry stopped you, and I was born." Tom finished, smiling softly.

Voldemort looked pensive. "Perhaps, if I absorbed your soul fragment, I would strengthen."

Tom's smile slid off his face. "I'm not joining you, Voldemort." Tom spat Voldemort's chosen name venomously. "Why would you think I would want to join a failure such as yourself? You can't even control a government as corrupt as the British Ministry of Magic!"

"I had almost won!" Voldemort snarled angrily. "Besides, you are a part of me. You should want me to succeed!"

Tom shook his head sadly. "No, Voldemort. I may have had a microscopic fragment of your soul, but I existed next to the soul of Harry Potter, one of the purest human beings on the planet. He affected me, and I affected him."

"But you are my Horcrux!" Voldemort protested furiously.

"I AM NO LONGER!" Tom screamed. "If I joined you, I would be nothing more than a means to an end! Here, alongside Harry, I am respected!" Tom's voice rose an octave on the last word, shaking with emotion. "I am valued!" He took a deep, calming breath, and continued quietly. "Most of all, I am loved. Which is something you could never understand."

At this, Voldemort had heard enough. He flew at Tom, willing the soul back into himself. He felt a piece of himself returning to him, like his hand had just been reattached.

Pain. Powerful, arcing pain. Fire flared through his spectral body, scorching his mind and forcing him to his imagined knees. Frantically, he pushed away the fragment that was Tom Riddle, but it wasn't enough. All his strength wasn't enough.

Tom held himself inside the specter's soul, the barest hint of love causing unknowable pain to Voldemort. Finally, when he realized that he had almost fused to Voldemort's soul, he fled, leaving Voldemort panting on the floor.

* * *

Voldemort floated aimlessly through Hogwarts, trying to think what he should do. He knew that if his Unintended Horcrux was really in league with Potter that he would be exposed instantly.

"Think, think, THINK!" Voldemort roared, before a solution came to him. He smiled cruelly, before concentrating again. "I just need a compatible body..."

Voldemort reached out with Quirrell's magic (who collapsed for no apparent reason four floors down) and began searching for willing souls. He flicked through the Slytherins quickly, sighing when nothing turned up. _Of course_, he thought,_ I should have seen that coming. No Slytherin would truly give up their soul for a bodiless Dark Lord. They have neither the bravery, nor the stupidity._

He realized what he just thought, and began searching with new criteria. _Gryffindors would be stupid enough to fall for my charms, and brave enough to let me past their defenses._

He searched through every classroom, every dormitory, and every bathroom in the school for a match. None appeared. He almost gave up right then before he realized he had missed one vitally important place.

The Infirmary.

Voldemort gathered himself, and traveled to his last hope.

With disappointment, he scanned Madam Pomfrey and three Hufflepuffs in for a minor hex. No luck.

There, lying on a hospital bed, was the only unscanned student in Hogwarts. Robert Potter. With great trepidation, Voldemort reached out a tendril of stolen magic. The vine of power barely caressed the boy's skin before Voldemort felt a pull. A pull like the pull of a Horcrux.

Voldemort stared in wonder at his eighth, even more unknown Horcrux, and slowly let himself drift into Robert's mind.

* * *

Candles burned dimly in the dark library, casting flickering shadows on the walls. Darkness draped itself like a cloak from the dark face of Tom Riddle. This was not the face of the Tom Riddle that helped an innocent child out of an abusive situation. This face was twisted, crueler. His eyes, that was the difference. His dark eyes were tunnels, tunnels wreathed in red, flickering flames.

The Darker Tom flipped through a dusty, ancient book. His eyes raced through the pages as if the hounds of hell were upon his heels and the spell which could kill them was contained in it's depths.

Suddenly, motion ended.

A dark smile slithered onto the face of the Darker Tom. "I've found it," he whispered gleefully. He closed his eyes and leaned back onto a bookshelf. Paying no mind to the dust motes disturbed by his movements, he breathed in deeply. His dark red orbs opened, the eyes of Lord Voldemort. With a dark laugh, he mockingly recited the most feared motto in the world. "Long live the empire."

* * *

**AN: Red Phoenix Dragon: The only reason it was so short is cause I couldn't figure out how to lengthen it. And no, it was supposed to be a warning, either sent by some higher power, or just his subconscious, that he had a mission. He wasn't supposed to have fun, he was supposed to kill Voldemort.**


	8. Chapter Seven: Limerick

I don't own Harry Potter.

Review, or I'll arm Bellatrix with a chainsaw and point her at your house...

171 visitors to the last chapter yesterday != 0 reviews.

It does not compute.

**Harry Potter and the Mirror, Darkly**

**Chapter Seven: The Creation of Mister Limerick**

Harry, Hermione, Luna, and Tom were sitting at the Hufflepuff breakfast table (because Hufflepuff was the only House loyal enough to accept a Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin). Tom had forgone his invisibility in favor of disguising charms, and was having an animated discussion with Luna about the merits of using a modified Tracking Charm to find Crumple-Horned Snorkacks.

"Luna, my modified Tracking Charm can find just about anything!" Tom said, exasperated.

"Crumple-Horned Snorkacks are quite tricky, though," Luna said with a small smile on her face.

Tom hung his head in his hands. "This is a pointless discussion. There is no such thing as a Crumple-Horned Snorkack. It's just an urban myth."

Luna smiled dreamily. "Can you prove it?"

Tom shook his head and raised his wand. "_Circumspicio_!" Immediately, his wand twisted his hand to point northwest direction.

Luna's eyes, while already larger than average, widened comically. "It works?"

Tom stopped the spell, looking at Luna with appraising eyes. "How do you know it works? I could have accidentally asked to point at something else."

Luna smiled. "Your wand was pointing at Sweden, which is where the most reports of the Snorkack come from."

Tom shook his head incredulously. "I can't be seriously considering this possibility," he muttered to himself.

Dumbledore calmly strode down the aisle next to the Hufflepuff table until he arrived next to Tom. Over Tom's shoulder, Albus saw Harry's eyes go wide with fear, and he wondered if perhaps he should act a little more 'Grandfatherly'. It would not do to have the students so terrified of their headmaster.

"Hello, young man," Dumbledore addressed Tom with a smile on his face. "I'm terribly sorry, but I don't know your name. Alas," Dumbledore broke off, playacting a bit sad (for the amusement of the little Luna Lovegood staring in shock at their interaction- it worked), "I find my old age occasionally gets the best of me."

Tom turned around and faced Dumbledore, fear thudding in his heart. This was the only man he ever truly feared. "Limerick, sir," Tom said softly. Even as terrified as he was, he couldn't resist practically waving his identity under Dumbledore's long, crooked nose.

Dumbledore smiled again. "Well, Mister Limerick, I find it quite rare that any wizard knows a spell I have never heard of." Tom was starting to sweat; Was Dumbledore suspicious? "Therefore, I find I must ask a slight favor, one wizard to another." Dumbledore hastened to reassure the boy. "By no means are you required to complete this favor, especially if it would make you too uncomfortable, but I would be ever so grateful, and-"

Tom interrupted the Headmaster. "Professor, you haven't told me what the favor is yet."

Despite the (one-sided) tense nature of the conversation, Harry snorted. That broke the floodgates, and all the other Hufflepuffs broke out into laughter. Even Tom chuckled a bit.

Once the roaring noise had passed, Dumbledore smiled serenely at Tom and spoke. "You are quite right, my boy. In my haste to reassure you, it appears that I forgot to tell you what I was asking. What I really wanted to ask you is," here Dumbledore paused, mostly for effect, "Could you please teach me that spell?"

Again, the Hufflepuff table broke out into laughter at the thought of a student teaching the Headmaster magic. Tom smiled in relief, along with the rest of the older boys (for different reasons, of course. The Hufflepuff boys had let their imaginations run away with them).

"Of course, Professor. It's not a secret," Tom said with a grin. "The incantation is _Circumspicio_, and the wand movement is a basic Nordaic rune of Searching tied by the second tail to a Sayonic rune of Destruction. You have to think very hard about what you are searching for. I find that listing it's characteristics is most useful."

Professor Dumbledore smiled, running through a few Arithmetic calculations in his head. Once he reached the result, he paled. Conjuring a piece of parchment and a self-inking quill, and ran through them again on paper. He then went even deeper, calculating each of the constants he used to make sure that these results were absolutely correct.

Whirling around, Dumbledore stared hard at Tom. "Mister Limerick, I would very much like to know where you learned the most powerful Tracking Charm that I have ever seen."

Tom shrunk back infinitesimally, but it was enough for Dumbledore to see. Dumbledore dropped the slightly hard look in his eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Mister Limerick, it's just-" Dumbledore broke off. "That spell is immensely powerful, so powerful in fact that it could go through even the most powerful hiding charm, such as the Fidelius."

Tom nodded, relaxing slightly. "I know, professor. It was designed to break powerful hiding enchantments. I trust you won't use it for nefarious purposes, or teach it to those that would."

Dumbledore nodded. "You're quite right, but I am worried about who you learned it from. Each spellmaker has a distinctive style, and I happen to be very familiar with the creator of this spell, unless I'm horribly mistaken."

Tom feigned confusion, while mentally berating himself. He had only told the Headmaster to avoid suspicion, but it seems to have put him under even more scrutiny than before. "Why would you be worried about this spell creator?"

"Because," intoned Dumbledore gravely, "the creator of that spell is Lord Voldemort." Dumbledore paused when his mention of the greatest Dark Lord in half a century failed to draw startled gasps from the surrounding students.

Seeing Dumbledore's confusion, Tom smiled at him. "As soon as I started telling you the spell, I cast a powerful Notice-Me-Not charm on us. Even if someone extracts their memories and puts them in a pensive, they won't know what we said."

"You have remarkable foresight, Mister Limerick."

"I was merely worried that the students would repeat the spell instructions to someone who _would_ use it for nefarious purposes," Tom said, pointing out an obvious danger. Dumbledore smiled.

"Well," he began with a genuine smile, "It appears great minds really do think alike. I placed a confundus charm on the tables so the students would mix up your instructions with that of a cactus conjuring charm."

Tom smiled before becoming serious. "Well, I don't know what to tell you, but I created that spell, and I am most definitely not Voldemort."

Dumbledore nodded, but then hesitated. Tom saw this and chuckled. "Would you like me to make a Wizard's Oath?"

Dumbledore looked comforted by the offer. "I assure you that isn't necessary. However, it may help me sleep at night," he admitted with a rueful grin.

Tom raised his wand, his arm bent at a comfortable angle, and began a spell. "_Certitudo._"

"I do solemnly vow that I am the creator of the _Circumspicio_ charm. I further vow that I am not Lord Voldemort (it was true, he was Tom Riddle), nor am I in any way willing to serve him or his boot-licking squad. Should this be a lie, may my magic rend my soul into a thousand pieces and send them all to the center of the earth for all of eternity."

Tom flicked the tip of his wand, and a small, marble-sized pearl floated out of his wand and landed in Dumbledore's outstretched hand. With a grin, Dumbledore pocketed it.

"Ah, the comfort of truth," Dumbledore sighed happily. "But, my boy," he said, frowning, "there was no need for such a high consequence. If you had misspoken, you would have had to endure an eternity of hell."

Tom smiled. "But I did not misspeak, did I. Good day, Professor."

Dumbledore grinned and dropped his confundus charm, and tore apart Tom's Notice-Me-Not. "Good day, Mister Limerick." Dumbledore started to walk away, but then turned back as if remembering an important detail. "Oh, Mister Limerick?" At Tom's inquiring look, Dumbledore smiled. "It would be best if you kept this particular spell to yourself."

Tom nodded, happy to be out of that uncomfortable turned around, sat back down, and began eating before noticing Harry's shocked expression.

He saw Harry drop a letter and put it on top of it's ripped envelope, and put it down. Tom glanced at the bottom of the letter, where the sender had signed his name, and his heart nearly stopped.

_Arthur Weasley_


	9. Chapter Eight: I Want A Moon Rock

I don't own Harry Potter.

AN: I could not resist the Star Trek reference... GO TREK!

And... YAAY! I got a review! Do it again!

**Harry Potter and the Mirror, Darkly**

**Chapter Eight: I Want a Moon Rock  
**

_Harry,_

_I want to begin by saying I'm very sorry about everything we've done to you. It's really inexcusable behavior, and I've spent every day since that first hating myself. I know that after everything we did to you, one letter with an explanation won't make you forgive us. In fact, I doubt anything we could do would make you forgive us. But despite this, we feel you deserve an explanation._

_A few weeks ago, just after Robert left for Hogwarts, Molly (and to a lesser extent, myself) began getting sick. Not seriously, but enough to warrant a visit to a Healer. There, we got bad news._

_The Healer explained that most children have a special sort of aura which activates after a certain amount of pain. The pain I'm talking about is physical, such as receiving a brutal beating or having been starved for days. Mothers are especially susceptible to the effects of the aura, as a defense mechanism. The child's aura basically encourages the parent to provide the child with what he needs, such as food and water, or healing spells and a hug._

_The children who have this aura tend to survive longer than the ones that don't, because when resources are tight the parents will be compelled to give the food/water/ect to the child with the aura._

_Normally, adults have a natural defense against this, but once they have had children, that natural defense is weakened._

_We have seven children._

_Our defenses are about the worst the Healer has ever seen, so he says. He then proceeded to ask if any of our children happened to leave for Hogwarts for the first time this year. I put two and two together._

_I don't know why the Ministry asked us to take care of you. I wish you had been placed somewhere where you would be happier, but that didn't happen._

_I know you won't forgive me, and I don't want you to. I deserve your hate. But Molly had no choice. It was my cowardice, my fear of standing up to her, that made your life here so unbearable._

_I will not make that mistake again, I swear it._

_I'm sorry,_

_ Arthur Weasley_

That was the letter which Harry now ran from. He ran and ran, not knowing where he was going. Still, no matter how far he ran the words did not fade.

Harry screamed an inhuman scream, his pain surpassing the limits of vocal expression. He was hurt and confused, because he didn't know who to blame.

_VOLDEMORT!_ Harry's mind screamed. _It's Voldemort's fault! If he hadn't killed your parents, you would have grown up being loved!_

_MOLLY! _Harry's heart screamed. _Just because she has a weakness does not justify what she did to me!_

_ROBERT!_ Harry's jealousy screamed. _It's his freaky magic trick! He made everyone else do it!_

_TOM! _Harry stopped dead. "No," he muttered, "That is where I draw the line. I will not blame my friend for what he did before he knew me."

Harry sank against the corridor wall, automatically moving to avoid hitting a silver shield hanging on the wall, and started to cry.

It felt like hours that Harry sat and cried, before he felt a warm touch on his shoulder. He looked up and saw Hermione's face, full of concern.

"Hey," she said softly, the gentle glow of the torches framing her face with gold.

"Hey," he repeated, trying to wipe his tears with his sleeve.

"It's okay to cry, Harry," she said comfortingly, and Harry didn't need another prompt. Tears once again fell from his emerald eyes, and Hermione felt her heart ache. She pulled his head onto her shoulder and he latched on, grabbing a fistful of the back of her shirt.

"Shhh, it's okay. Let it out," she whispered, rocking him softly.

"I s-spent my e-ent-tire life h-hating her," Harry hiccuped into Hermione's shirt.

"I know, shh, I know," she rubbed his hair and back comfortingly.

"A-and now, she di-idn't do anyth-thing wrong!" Harry broke out into even harder sobs.

Hermione fought back her curiosity, focusing on comforting Harry. "Harry, you're okay. You're away from her. She can't hurt you anymore."

Harry hiccuped loudly before continuing. "S-she didn't wa-ant me, and it wasn't h-her fa-ault. I'm unl-loveab-le."

Hermione released Harry from the hug, grabbing his head with both hands. "You aren't unlovable, Harry. You're the most lovable person I've met."

"B-but wh-hy did M-molly not love m-me?"

"Because she's crazy. Harry, we all love you. Luna, Tom," she took a breath, "Me."

Harry looked at her with doubt in his eyes. "T-they don't love me. They l-like me, b-but they d-dont _love_ m-me."

"Yes, Harry, they do." Hermione smiled at him reassuringly, stroking the sides of his arms. "_I_ do. Don't ever doubt us like that. You," she paused, searching for the perfect words. "I am, and always shall be, your friend."

"E-even aft-ter what I've d-done?" Harry asked, a small look of hope creeping onto his face.

"You haven't done anything, Harry," Hermione said softly, pausing slightly. "Have you?"

"I l-lost my temp-per, down at the la-ake, rememb-er?" Harry said, confused.

Hermione's eyes widened. "That was real?"

"Yeah, y-you _were_ there," Harry trailed off.

"But... Why did you do it, Harry?" Hermione looked panicked.

"I l-lost my temper, Hermione. I don't know w-why, but he was-" Harry broke off, composing himself slightly. "I lost control. He was playing me like a fiddle, Hermione. He knew exactly how to get to me, and he got what he wanted."

"But Harry, you nearly killed him!"

"I know," Harry broke off, his emerald eyes blazing with intensity. "It will never happen again." Then he uttered two words that made Hermione cave. "_I promise._"

With great emotion, Hermione threw her whole body into Harry's slightly shocked arms. He tentatively returned the hug, and neither of them moved for _quite_ some time.

* * *

Luna strolled along the hallway leading to the Trophy Room, softly humming a little Muggle tune. When she arrived, she peered into the room with a wide grin.

"You two, it's been _hours_ since you left." Luna said matter-of-factly, which in itself was odd as Luna was never factual.

Still in Harry's embrace, Hermione mumbled at Luna. "G'way"

"It's my turn already," Luna complained, looking down at them. "You wouldn't want to be _selfish_ now, would you Hermione."

Her only response was a sock thrown in her face. "Where did you get that sock?" Luna asked confusedly.

Hermione reluctantly extricated herself from the hug and turned to glare at Luna. "I am a _witch_!" she snarled, irritated at the younger girl.

"Ooh, yay! You're done!" Luna jumped up and down and clapped, as if it was the most exiting thing in the world. "My turn!"

She hurled herself at Harry, who was unprepared for the voracious assault. "Luna, I'm all hugged out!" Harry protested loudly.

Luna pouted but stood up. "Meanies."

Harry sighed. "What can I do to make it up to you, Luna?" he asked resignedly. Luna smiled a mischievous smirk.

"I want a moon rock, Harry," Luna said, her eyes bright with mirth. "And I'll name it Luna II, because I'm Luna, and the Moon is Luna."

Harry stared. "You want-"

"A moon rock," Luna completed, happily skipping away. "And no cheating either, like buying it at a store!" she called over her shoulder.

"This is going to be bloody difficult," Harry muttered to himself. Hermione stared in shock.

"You mean you're actually going to do it?" Hermione asked.

Harry nodded. "If I don't, Luna will pout for months. And trust me, a disgruntled Luna makes you wish-" he broke off. "Well, it makes you wish a lot of impossible things."

Hermione blinked.

"I could try a Summoning charm, but that would take a _lot_ of power."

Hermione took a deep, calming breath.

"I could fly there on a broomstick, with a bubble-head charm with oxygen replacement charms in place."

Hermione's eyes rolled back in her head, unable to comprehend the sheer stupidity of what Harry was going to try, and she fainted.

"Hmm, maybe I could borrow a Saturn V rocket from a museum, add some strengthening charms and fuel replenishing charms, then return it with nobody being the wiser. What do you think Hermione?" Harry turned to see Hermione on the floor. "Hermione?"

"You sent her into shock," Tom said from the doorway.

"Meh," Harry said softly. "If she finds this faint-worthy, I'm not even going to mention what I had to do last time."

Tom shuddered at the memory. "It took weeks to get the smell of rotten frog guts off your clothes."

"Hey!" Harry protested, "It was a good idea until you brought that stupid Manticore into things!"

Hermione, who had just woken up, fainted again.


	10. Chapter Nine: Truth and Traitors

I don't own Harry Potter.

**Harry Potter and the Mirror, Darkly**

**Chapter Nine: Truth and Traitors**

Hermione sat by the crackling fire, her head tilted at an interested angle. In her hands she held an old, leather-bound, dusty book which looked like it hadn't been touched for a couple of centuries. In thin, fading golden letters the title 'Runes: Their Modern Applications' was scrawled hurriedly, as if the author simply wanted to publish the book in the next 15 seconds.

_Listening to the crackling of the fire is soothing_, Hermione pondered as she memorized another page of runes. _Perhaps I should study here more often._

Hermione took a deep breath, savoring the smell of ancient parchment. To her, the book was more than just information. It was the soul of the author who wrote it, and she reveled in being the one to unravel its secrets. Knowledge of a civilization long dead, its culture, its _power_, was held in her hands.

Startling Hermione from her philosophical ponderings came a flash of light and a high-pitched whoosh. As the star-shaped light faded, she was surprised (and not a little irritated) to see Tom leaning against a wall, arms crossed.

"Don't do that, Tom," she said a bit stiffly.

Tom smirked, but then became serious. "Hermione, I want to apologize for what I did to you."

Hermione nodded. "I understand why you did it, but it will be a while before I can completely trust you again, Tom. Although," she began with a mischievous smirk, "It would go a long way if you told me how you did that."

"Well, to start off, do you know how a wizard's Magical Core works?" Tom asked her. She shook her head no embarrasedly. "That's nothing to be ashamed of. I didn't understand until my third year."

"Magic itself is simply the application of energy produced by your core. It's an immensely complex system, and most of it takes place in a higher dimension. The fifth, I believe," Tom trailed off, looking pensive. "Anyway, the actual core works by drawing energy from a specific point in space. By energy, I don't mean all types of energy. Some types, like kinetic energy, would be disastrous to alter.

"It doesn't take energy from nearby, either. It funnels energy from distant stars, which really can be anywhere. The more powerful the star, the more magical reserves you have, and the more powerful you are. If that was all that influenced magical power, every wizard on the planet would be as powerful as Merlin. But, they're not, so clearly there must be something else blocking it.

"The second bottleneck for magical power is the converter. Each wizard has their own internal converter, which takes the heat, light, electric, and other types of energy and converts it to electrical energy. Now, the rate at which the converter converts is different for every wizard, so that's why you get such varied power. It's also why you see some wizards who have a ridiculous amount of power, but almost no magical reserves. It's because they convert a lot of energy, but the raw supply is smaller."

"Tom," Hermione interrupted, "This is all fascinating, but not what I asked."

"True," he admitted, "but it's necessary to know if you want to know how my method of transportation works. Now, where was I... Oh yes, onto me.

"Now, I created a lot of rituals ages ago to increase the number of funnels that attached to my core and to increase my converter speed. As such, I am now almost ridiculously powerful. My power is what allows me to use my method, which I call Apparition.'

Hermione looked at Tom with a dull expression. "Apparition is not what that is."

Tom smirked at her. "I call it Apparition because it confuses lesser human beings. Some people think I'm talking about Apparating."

Hermione huffed. "You still haven't told me how it works!"

"That's true," admitted Tom. "Alright. The spell first transfigures my body into a low-mass, high-energy ionized neutrino cloud. Then it accelerates the cloud up to half the speed of light, letting momentum do the traveling work. Then, when I've reached my destination, it decelerates the neutrinos and disables the transfiguration."

Hermione shook her head. "That's stupidly complicated."

"Yes," Tom admitted, "Yes it is."

* * *

**Imperial Palace, San Francisco**

The history of the Terran Empire may have been brief, but the road to their immense power did not lack a trail of blood. Nevertheless, the impressive sight of the Imperial Palace brought awe to even the staunchest of the empire's enemies. With bone-white marble spires riding atop the gleaming stone walls of the main building like the clawed hand of a man long dead, reaching for the starless sky.

In addition to the intimidation factor of the building itself, the road too inspired terror in the hearts of all, even the Emperor. The road gleamed innocently, it's polished exterior giving no clue to it's horrifying past.

Four guards, clad in blood-red robes and helmets escorted a short, terrified man down the lane, taunting him with it's symbolic show of strength.

"You know what this road is paved with, traitor?" snarled one of the guards. The short man shook his head fearfully, as if the knowledge itself would kill him.

"It's paved with fused shards of bone," another sneered nastily. The prisoner looked sick.

"Every traitor that walks this path gets added to the pile. That way," the first guard explained, "Every traitor walks on the bones of his predecessors before his death." Beneath the shining red mask, the man's face was twisted in a dark expression of glee. "Every loyal citizen who visits the Emperor steps on the graves of every traitor."

"It's poetic justice," a third guard said softly. Somehow, that final voice broke the poor prisoner, and he fell to his knees.

"Please, I didn't do it," the man whispered fervently. "I have a wife and child, I'm innocent."

The guards ignored him and dragged him down the repulsive road. "I DIDN'T DO IT!" he screamed desperately, his voice cracking under the immense strain of his fear warring with his desire to live. "I WOULD NEVER BETRAY THE EMPIRE! I'M INNOCENT!"

One of the guards snapped out his hand and began dragging the man by his throat, cutting off the man's frenzied pleas. The prisoner could only watch with tears streaming down his face as the dark sight of the faintly glimmering water of the South Bay slowly faded into the distance. Even the towering dark orange form of the Golden Gate Bridge got smaller and smaller the closer he got to the Palace.

Soon his scuffed boots began dragging on carpet, and he saw the dark walls of the Palace's Entrance Hall close in around his vision. With freedom now impossible, the man ceased his struggle. He was dragged through a twisted maze of hallways and he wondered how the guards could figure their way around. With a sickening thought, he realized that it was because they had traveled this path hundreds of times before, perhaps thousands.

The quintuple stopped abruptly, dropping the wheezing man onto the floor. "Kneel before your Emperor," a guard said sharply.

_What?_ Thought the man. _The Emperor?_

His confusion was understandable, as normally the trial of an accused traitor was judged by an Imperial Council representative. With dread, the gasping man crawled to his knees, twisting his body so he was facing the most powerful man in the known world. The Emperor's chair was ornately decorated, with a curiously dark white frame. The cushions looked plush, and the fabric was exquisite. The Emperor himself was hidden in the shadows of the dark courtroom, with only the faint gleam of ruby eyes glinting from the shadows.

"M-my lord," the short man wheezed out through his crumpled windpipe.

"You have been accused of High Treason," the Emperor spoke coldly, his cruel voice slicing the traitor's hopes with it's venom. "This crime violates the very fabric of our People's Empire." The Emperor broke off. "How do you plead," he said, as if the traitor's answer did not really matter to him.

"Not guilty, your excellency," the man rubbed his throat, his voice raspy.

"You knowingly hid the existence of an entire _community_," here the Emperor paused to emphasize the magnitude of the man's crimes, "of creatures of remarkable intelligence, fully capable of wreaking havoc on our way of life."

The man tried to interrupt the Emperor. "But my Liege, they wouldn't dare attack the Empire!"

One of the guards who escorted him to the 'trial' raised a blade. The metal glinted above his gloved hand before a blood-curdling scream rang through the courtroom. One of the traitor's fingers had been cut off. "You will be silent when the Emperor is speaking, you traitorous filth."

"Let me make myself perfectly clear," the Emperor leaned forward in his throne, his face finally unveiled from the shadows. It was a twisted mockery of a human face, as if a child had taken an iron to a wax sculpture unevenly. His face drooped asymmetrically, and faint white scars adorned his gnarled visage. "You put my empire in danger. These creatures are on _British_ soil," snarled the fearsome leader of the world government. "Our _enemies_."

The man knew that it was over, at that moment. "I change my plea to guilty, if protecting innocent humans from the twisted fist of this corrupt Empire is a crime."

The Emperor cocked his head a tiny bit, and smiled a dangerous smile. "It is." With surprising agility, the Emperor heaved himself out of his throne and plunged a dagger into the heart of the fearful man kneeling helplessly before him. "You have plead guilty, and the punishment for High Treason is execution." The Emperor ripped the dagger from the man's chest, dripping blood from the bone-white blade. "The sentence has been carried out."

With his dying breath, the man barely wheezed his final words. "Long live the True Empire."

The Emperor bowed his head, and his guards followed suit. In unison, all men but the one lying on the floor gushing his life's blood spoke. "Long Live the Empire!"


	11. Chapter Ten: All Hail

I don't own Harry Potter.

AN: A reviewer told me that he/she was confused by a few things. For one, the dream scene that Harry had. I'm going to bring that in at the end. The diary... Lucius still has it, and won't use it until he needs to. Her father... It'll come up. And finally, why didn't Molly neglect her own kids? Well, she did, just not to the extend that she neglected Harry. She felt more strongly about her own children so she subconsciously fought harder.

**Harry Potter and the Mirror, Darkly**

**Chapter Ten: All Hail the Conquering Empire**

**INV **_**Enterprise, **_**Main Bridge**

Captain Cyrilla Kelvin shifted her uniform slightly as she sat on the hot leather cushion of her command chair. Oh how she hated the revealing uniforms with their bared midriffs and their short shorts. It was degrading to stand in front of her bridge officers (all male, of course) wearing such an atrocity. Nevertheless, it was the price she had to pay for serving in the Imperial Navy.

"Helm, report," Cyrilla barked out. The officer swirled around, saluting.

"Our ETA to intercept the British Fleet is," he twisted to check his console, "One hour and twenty seven minutes." At the Captain's expectant look, he mockingly added a 'sir'.

"Very well," Cyrilla nodded. "I'll be interrogating the prisoner. Commander Lovegood, you have the Bridge."

Captain Kelvin strode to the elevator, entering it soundlessly. "Brig," she intoned without emotion.

The captain entered a small, dark room and immediately the smell of decaying flesh hit her nostrils like a sledgehammer. A technician was regulating vital signs from some terminal, and a ragged looking man leaned against a glass booth with shrieks of pain reverberating inside.

Blood stained his dirty-brown locks of hair as he twisted and pulled large tufts from his head. From behind the glass, Captain Kelvin ordered the level to be increased. The man's eyes twirled in agony, and he screamed with renewed vigor.

"Fifty percent, sir," the technician announced. Cyrilla's head shook in disgust.

"Just tell us the command codes, Colonel," the captain pleaded with a cold look in her eyes. "I don't want to watch your body be dissolved by the hydrochloric acid, but I will if I have to."

"I'll never join you!" he screamed hoarsely, as the acid began to eat away at his esophagus.

"If you tell us the codes, there needn't be any loss of life," Cyrilla tried to reason with him.

Indecision wavered in his eyes, before the pain forced his hand. "I'll tell you the codes, just let me out!"

* * *

_MUGGLE BRITAIN CONQUERED_

_by Marissa Colton_

_Late last night, the Terran Empire began a calculated military strike against the British Empire, engaging our Muggle's Navy outside the Isles of Sicily. According to reputable sources, the Terran Empire's Navy sent nine-hundred-forty-eight Devastator-class warships to fight our much smaller fleet of two-hundred-eleven. Their vessels, lead by the flagship 'INV _Enterprise_' , utterly decimated Her Majesty's fleet by overriding their computer control with stolen command codes._

_Only one vessel escaped, for one reason only; they had reset their computer. (For those who don't know, a computer is a sort of artificial ghost built by muggles, which performs various actions such as plays games and controls their ships.) The captain of the vessel (the HMS _Victory_)_ _reported that none of the other vessels had anyone left alive on board when the _Victory_ escaped._

_Four hours after that, the British Empire unconditionally surrendered._

_The Ministry of Magic has issued recommendations to all witches and wizards living in Empire-controlled areas._

_1- Do not, under any circumstances, reveal the existence of Magic to Imperial officials or sympathizers._

_2- Avoid Imperial troops at all costs._

_3- Avoid entering Muggle London unless absolutely necessary._

_4- If the Empire discovers our existence, find shelter. Magically reinforce it if necessary. Protection shelters will be set up in every city._

Harry threw the paper down in disgust. "How could the Tutshill Tornados _lose_? And to the Cannons, no less!"

Hermione gaped. "Harry, the entire muggle world is under the rule of a tyrant, and the only thing you can think of is Quidditch?"

Harry nodded absently. "Hey Ron!" Ron looked at him quizzically from across the Great Hall. "You still like the Chudley Cannons, right?"

"Yeah!" Ron's face cleared of all confusion.

"The Cannons just won their first victory in twenty-five years!" Harry told him.

Ron stood shocked, then his face broke out into a grin. "HAH!" he screamed at the world. "I TOLD YOU SO!"

At that moment, Luna came in screaming with happiness. "YOU GOT IT!" she cried, holding a small gray rock with a pink bow attached. "How did you do it?"

Hermione stared in shock, much like Ron had mere moments earlier.

"I shrunk myself to the size of an electron and launched myself out of a particle accelerator. Before I collided with the surface, I cast a ridiculously overpowered cushioning charm at the moon and landed painlessly. Then I undid my shrinking charm, cast a bubble-head charm, picked up a rock, and Portkeyed back to the gates of Hogwarts."

Hermione's eyes widened before she began shoving her extremely sharp nails into Harry's sensitive arm. "What," she started, "were you thinking."

Harry leaned in and whispered. "I didn't actually do that. I just transfigured an ordinary rock."

Satisfied, she let go of his arm. Shaking his head, Harry whispered to Tom. "What an overreaction. I had to tell her I transfigured it."

* * *

In the Infirmary, Professor Dumbledore was interrogating the recently awakened Robert. He wasn't having very much luck.

"Are you sure that Mister Potter had nothing to do with your accident?" Dumbledore inquired for the fifth time.

Robert rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm sure. I was playing with a muggle lighter my father gave me. It exploded."

Dumbledore wrestled with his conscience. He knew that he needed to know the truth. Robert could have been threatened by his brother, and is simply afraid for his life. Or his memory could have been tampered with. He needed to know.

"Legilimens," Dumbledore whispered. Immediately he was assaulted by intense hatred and arrogance. This boy truly believed that he was entitled to the world. True royalty, Dumbledore thought bitterly. Returning to his task, he began inspecting the memories of the so-called accident. After careful inspection, he reluctantly admitted that it was probably a real memory. But there was a small feeling of familiarity in this memory, one not easily explained by the fact that Dumbledore had heard the story before.

In a flash of horrified inspiration, Dumbledore put the pieces together. The memory had the distinctive feeling of the mind of Tom Riddle. The new boy in the school, who's genius was nearly exact to that of Riddle, had chosen a name which was a synonym of Riddle; Limerick. There were two boys who witnessed the death of Voldemort, one of whom exhibited an impressive amount of magical power and knowledge.

Harry Potter was being possessed by Tom Riddle.


End file.
